


Bells of a Different Pitch

by SinnamonCupcakes



Category: Suicide Squad - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe, And IDK how to even portray these characters, I Tried, I challenged myself, I have no clue on what I'm doing anymore, I honestly tried, I need help, I ship it but i don't know how it'd work out, Ive seen this movie twice, Kinda Fluff Kinda Angst, M/M, Military, OCesc characters, OOC characters, Panic, When this is what you do instead of your class/college work, When you try your best and you dont succeed, angsty, criminals, relationship, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 19:06:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7857490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinnamonCupcakes/pseuds/SinnamonCupcakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the enchantress did take the life of June upon dying. Takes place years after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bells of a Different Pitch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sps/gifts).



> TBH this is probably going to be what I'd call a 'warm up' piece. I hope to get back into the writing business. Sorry for the extended absence!

Wedding bells, and absolutely ridiculous idea for any criminal, or ex-criminal mindset. Yet, they also had their appeal. The start of a new chapter, the beginning of a new time. They all had their appeal. But who the hell would have thought that the criminal and the military commander could have gotten together? Flagg ended up having a soft spot for the sharp shooter, but nobody could blame him. Harley returned home with the Joker on the night that everyone was broken free. (The Joker, honestly could have cared less, but like he said, he'd do anything for his Harley. This included the men taking the expresso machine with them.) Flagg had decided to just let things go, they had saved the world, why not just let them go for now? If they  **DO** anything, he'd come in, take them back, but so far, nothing had really happened. The crime wasn't really something that was constantly a bother, nor was anyone being murdered. 

It started when Floyd got back to his kid. Flagg was able to track him down, but yet, when he busted into Floyd holding his kid close, telling her that he loved her, something just broke with him. He threw down the gun, and luckily he had been on a solo chase. Nobody came, as it had been a personal thing. He threw down the gun and stopped for a second. The next thing that came out of his mouth was something that would have started a long, lengthy progress of friends eventually showing interest in one another. And eventually companionship. Of course, this was Flagg and Floyd we were talking about, strict military personnel and criminal hit man. How in the world were things to work out? You'd be insane to think that out of everyone, someone who worked for the government and someone who worked on the streets; would NEVER work out. Things could only get worse from what those two had started with. 

Yet, they'd disagree. Of course, when it private, anyone's relationship could be different. Floyd still stood strong, not being afraid of taking Flagg on in an argument. They'd have their nights. Everything came together in one night, Floyd staying the night at Flagg's, as he had missed hearing his voice or even feeling him around. Flagg ended up being called in for the next mission on the front lines, meaning no one would be there to tend to his two teacup Pomeranians, Floyd was thoroughly convinced that those little bastards were racist. His daughter certainly liked the 2 pounds of fluff, so every so often she'd swing by with the help of her Aunt who was in town, visit with her father and then have to leave to go back to her mother's before night fell. It was a sad night whenever she had to go, but he'd always reassure her that they'd get back together, that those two would end up living together one day.  

He really should introduce Zoe to his Fiance. He still remembered the call, the shocking night that he was almost convinced that it was the world telling him that he didn't deserve the good life. He was sitting in his small apartment, beer in his hand, the Tv on in his living room as background noise. He'd sigh, sit down on the couch eventually, and just accept the fact that his boyfriend would be gone for a couple more months, and that he "absolutely, was not, under any circumstances, allowed to go out and join his old suicide squad for one round of chaos." Flagg really did feel like an over protective housewife at times. He wondered if that's how Diablo felt with his wife before everything happened. He quickly retracted that thought, Diablo really didn't deserve to be put in that asylum. Floyd looked up, an urgent broadcast coming on, as to update people on the front lines of the war. 

"This just in, 32 have been injured or killed in the recent attack on our front lines, we will be with you all with updates as we receive them" Floyd's heart dropped, biting his lip harshly as he tried to rationalize it. "Flagg was too cautious to be on the front lines like that, that bastard must've been in the back lines, commanding the troops." he'd try and move, go to take a sip of the alcohol that was in the brown bottle, but everything seem frozen to him, besides the TV in front of him. He continued to think about the possibilities of where he could be, of how he couldn't be in that attack. How he was still alive. He had to be. 

Floyd couldn't move from his seat, besides reaching out and taking the cell phone that laid on the coffee table in front of him. He shakily dialed the number once it was reported that the troops on both sides were retreating until the smoke had cleared, his throat felt like it was swelling, a lump keeping him from swallowing easy. He listens to the phone ring, until it clicked, his voicemail picking it up. Floyd was shaking, hanging up and dialing the number again. He continued to dial and dial every time he got to voicemail. He started to pace around the living room, anger, panic, and a strong sadness taking him by the throat, pressing on his windpipe before it all had stopped.  He dialed again, biting his lip, punching the wall as it continued to ring.  

Nothing had patched through. Floyd started to punch at the wall, his knuckles bruising and bleeding, but who the hell would care? He threw the phone on the couch, pacing about. His phone lit up, a message bubble on the screen. 

"He's a tough guy, he'll be able to make it. -Harley" Floyd sighed, walking around the couch. Thankfully he and the ex-suicide squad were still in touch. Especially with Harley, the damn girl was the only reason they were out of there at this time. They all had to lay low before making a return since they were wanted on the streets for whatever cash reward they'd give the poor suckers. This lead to a lot of fun nights at underground bars, or even bringing their own boozes to abandoned buildings. Granted, one of those buildings were now destroyed and nothing but a pile of rubble, but hey. When people get antsy, people get antsy. 

Floyd laid on the couch, texting back a quick 'thanks' to Harley, watching the news as it rolled by on the Tv. He just kept thinking. What was he going to do without Flagg? Was he going to be able to take care of those two racist dogs? He just listened on. 

_1 am_

_2 am_

_3 am_

The hours rolled by, Floyd just laying on the couch, waiting. Continuously watching and listening for something. Listening for the phone to ring or vibrate, for the news to say that our side was still okay. 3:30. Floyd was nearly half asleep, his body screaming that he should have gone to bed, but something jolted him awake. The ringtone played out, Floyd grabbing his phone, pressing accept without noticing that it wasn't a voice call, but instead a video. 

"Floyd?" Flagg's voice was soft, yet louder than the TV to Floyd. 

"Flagg..! You asshole! I called like.. 10 times!" 

"I was busy tending to the wounded. I'm okay, you ass... hey, wait, are you crying?"

"No, Flagg. I'm not." Floyd sniffed, trying not to make it obvious by wiping his eyes. 

"Bull! You totally are!" Flagg smiled in a slight amusement, finding it nice that his boyfriend had honestly cared so much about him, and not just the home he had. 

"Shut it, tough stuff."

"Haha, that's actually pretty funny. I only got a minute here, Floyd. They're thinking of trying to call a treaty." 

"You should, so you could get back here sooner. I got things I need to take care of man."

"Oh boo-hoo. We'll get there. How're the dogs?"

"Always about those dogs of yours." 

"Well?? They're my babies."

"They're fine, Flagg. Racist as ever." 

"They aren't. Look. I'll update you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah. One thing, though, before you go." 

"What is it."

"When you get your petty ass back here. I'm taking your last name." 

Flagg had stopped for a second. Just how much did he have to drink tonight? Surely too much. 

"Alright, drunkard. I think you should get some sleep."

"I mean it. Don't make me say it again." Floyd insisted, dead-panned. Flagg smiled. He really did care enough to the point of wanting to one day, and probably not officially be married. How sweet. 

"... We'll see. I'll come home soon, alright?'

"Alright... I'll see you then... Love you, Flagg,"

"I love you too, now get some rest, you idiot."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Holy wow. This is absolute traaash. What am I even doing, honestly, I need to really re-evaluate everything. Regardless, Enjoy the Fluff, babe.


End file.
